It's tomorrow. Fuck. Oh, the unpreparedness! (And what to do, what to do? If yes, then to hell for sure. If no, then whatifwhatifwhatif ( Read more... )

I spent last Sunday at a police station. All wasn't what it seemed, and Drew is to blame, but christ I need not drink so much. Almost a week later and my stomach still churns at the thought of it ( Read more... )

Never. Drinking. Again.

Also, in the early hours of this morning I realised I love my jacket so much because it smells exactly like a party to me - denim, smoke, tequila and Bvlgari green tea.

But seriously: Never. Again.

no more orals, ever. hoorah.
(fucked spanish, aced english. it all balances out in the end.)

college applications coming constantly.
fuckers.

must get something for jules, but what i do not know.
perhaps i shall buy a plant in a pot.

thinking of piss-up sophisticated cocktail evening for november (13th? no, 15th or thereabouts). details must ( Read more... )

Welsh is a damn stupid language. Even Welsh people don't speak fucking Welsh, and yet I persist ( Read more... )

in killkillstabbitydie mood.
people? can't stand 'em!

fuck everything.

and verily, frenzal rhomb did provide the answer:
at least I know that russell crowe's band is a fucking pile of shit!

Seamus Heaney:
I don't care that your blackberries rotted. I don't care that Ireland was raped by Britain. I don't care that you ate bloody oysters. I especially don't care that you have issues with peat bogs.
Fucking shut up.

That is all.
Wait, no it's not!
Peat bogs. What the fuck is up with peat bogs?

That is all.

Next year is going to be great big steaming pile of shit for me ( Read more... )

So, I didn't get to go to the hellishly expensive concert.
But!

( Visual aids to accompany my last post. )